


and supergirls don't cry

by GeoApo



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bloodplay, F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-05 17:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5384396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeoApo/pseuds/GeoApo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Shaw came back to find Root waiting for her and one time she didn't.</p><p>(set three days after Shaw's return.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kallium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kallium/gifts).



> Why not post a complete work and split it into chapters? Because i'm lazy and i need positive reinforcement to keep writing! Just give me a treat or something.
> 
> (rating's gonna change eventually)

The first time Shaw got out of the safe house was three days after her return. Everyone was worried about it, especially Root who refused to take her eyes off of her even when she was sleeping, but there was nothing they could do to obstruct her from leaving, not after the outburst she had.

It wasn’t a big deal, John had said and Harold agreed, but Root knew better. She knew Shaw. And this person that had returned and looked like her –only thinner- wasn’t the person that once was willing to die so that they could live. 

Shaw used to get angry and frustrated and impatient. Now there was nothing. Now she would look at them with a stare that everyone could discern how empty it was but no one would admit it and then she’d find a pretense to leave the room or play with Bear or clean a gun; anything to avoid having to deal with feelings.

Feelings that no one was sure she had anymore. Not even anger or annoyance. She would hear everything, maybe even reply sometimes, watch everything, talk about everything, but she would never express any feeling, as if nothing could affect her anymore. Not even Root’s innuendos or Finch’s unsuccessful attempts to communicate.

And now there she was, shutting the door behind her and leaving Root behind as if being there for her meant nothing, as if Root couldn’t help her anymore. 

And maybe she couldn’t but still she stayed. 

She stayed at the safe house all night, watchful and worried, waiting for Shaw to come back. She would come back, Root was sure of it, she just needed some time to find herself, to remember all those things she once felt, to miss Root only a bit of how she had missed her. 

That’s what Root was telling herself all night, a reassurance, and when Shaw came back she forgot everything. 

Because Shaw returned more indifferent than she had left five hours ago. She hadn’t found herself; on the contrary she had lost it all the more and on top of that there was now a wound decorating her forehead that kept bleeding uncontrollably making her face look like a Jordan Eagles’ painting. 

“What happened to you?” Root almost screamed as she sprang forward and took Shaw’s head in her hands to inspect the damage. 

“Someone thought it was a good idea to hit on me” Shaw said as if she was describing another day in the office. The blood still running from her face and a grin on it that one would think she enjoyed it. 

“And you let him- what? Crash a bottle against your head?” Root asked genuinely confused about how could a trained operative end like this just by attracting a guy in a bar. 

“No that was his friend after I broke his hand” Shaw said almost proud of herself as she sat on the couch and turned on the television while Root was still pressing a towel against her forehead. 

And she let her, for however long it took her to stop the bleeding Root was standing beside her with a hand behind her neck to keep her steady and the other holding the towel. 

That was the closest they’d been in months and the moment Root realized it it was too late to ignore the feeling in her stomach, the dizziness she felt every time she touched Shaw. And so she stayed there, feeling Shaw’s body so close to her own, her neck under her palm warm, her heartbeat surprisingly slow and all that without Shaw complaining about the contact. 

She was just sitting on the couch that three days now was hosting Root, unaffected by the hand on her neck that its fingers had started tracing patterns a couple of minutes ago, as though she didn’t care or didn’t consider it a big deal to comment upon. 

Until she perceived the –unneeded- additional time that the towel was pressed against her wound and flinched. 

“I believe the bleeding should have stopped by now” she said but kept paying attention to the screen. 

That pushed Root out of her thoughts and she nodded, clearly dazzled, before removing unwillingly her hands from Shaw’s head. 

Indeed the bleeding had stopped, Root made sure of it by staring at Shaw for the next hour until Shaw snapped. 

“Why are you still here?” she said and this time turned to look at Root who seemed unfazed by the question.

“You’re sitting on my couch” Root replied as if she was explaining the most obvious thing in the world. 

“You know what I mean” Shaw tried to keep calm but failed and that was the first time Root discern a small amount of feeling emerging from this apathetic body that three days now did nothing but living. It was only anger, but even that was enough right now. Anything but that indifferent behavior Root had to deal with since Shaw’s return. 

“Then you know why” Root’s reply was sincere and sweet and too much for Shaw to handle. So she stood up and made a move to leave but regretted it. There was one more thing she needed to say, one thing she should have said the day Root brought her in here and promised her she would keep her safe no matter what. 

“It’s pointless” she said and turned to go to her bedroom until a grip on her wrist stopped her midway.

She didn’t look at the person behind her, her stare locked on the bedroom’s door, but she felt her coming impossibly closer until her body was pressed against her back and her hand now was more stroking than holding Shaw’s wrist.

Then a breath came to caress Shaw’s ear, so hot that one would think a thousand explosions were happening inside her lungs, and the next moment she whispered the question Shaw had been asking herself for the last couple of days. 

“Is it?”


	2. Chapter 2

The second time Shaw left the safe house was five days later. She had said she had an important work than needed her undivided attention so Root didn’t have to worry about her and because eventually _she would be back._

And Root didn’t argue about it, after the bar fight five days ago Shaw wasn’t exactly communicative. She would get out of her bedroom only to eat or ask for food and then she would hide back to her cave - a mini gym was installed there and Root could hear her exercising practically all day.

As for her interaction with Root, it was almost nugatory. It’s not that Root didn’t try, she did; it was Shaw’s treatment that excluded her from her daily life. It was the indifference, the refusal to look at her, the perpetual efforts to ignore her, the impassivity…

It was everything Root hated and yet she was still there, waiting for Shaw to come back, even when the night succeeded the day and vice versa, she was still there, even when that circle completed its full rotation not one but three times.

Root stayed and waited, staring at the door and hoping Shaw would open it and look at her with that cold gaze that made her limps shake and her heart stop, she just had to come back and Root would never complain about the silence and the apathy and the alienation. 

And when Shaw finally opened that door, the fourth day of her absence, Root didn’t even blink. Her stare was empty just like Shaw’s was all these days and her eyes were dry from all the tears that had abandoned her too a long time ago.

Now they were just looking in each other’s eyes but neither spoke. Words were too much for both of them. For Root was the fear of snapping and bursting into tears and for Shaw was the lack of words she seemed to have all this time since her return –and maybe part of it was surprise at finding Root still there, waiting for her. 

Finally, it was Shaw’s attempt to walk to the bedroom that triggered Root’s anger. 

“You didn’t have to come back you know. Nobody will force you to stay if you don’t want to.” She said with a voice unsteady but never looked at Shaw again who was now standing by the bedroom’s door, frozen and speechless. 

“I know” Shaw’s answer was straight and somehow soft, as if she was apologizing for something that neither knew what it was.

Root turned to look at her and when she spoke her words were harsh, meant to hurt even when she knew she could never hurt Shaw, she wasn’t good enough to do that; she wasn’t even enough. “Then why did you?” 

The question startled Shaw but the reply came fast and it was sincere above all, “I didn’t know where else to go.” Her stare had now dropped to the floor while her hand was toying with the door’s handle, the expression on her face similar to a child’s that was discovering secrets incomprehensive and garbled.

“You could stay where you have been for the past three days” Root’s eyes were cold and shiny, they lacked the spark they once had when they looked at Shaw, the adoration.  
“What’s your problem?” Shaw snapped.

“You. I’m here, look at me, and I’m trying” Root’s voice came out wicker than she hoped for and blamed it on the lack of sleep. 

“I didn’t ask you to stay here, neither to care-” Shaw said, anger emerging from every cell of her body, until Root’s eyes betrayed the mistake she made but it was too late to collect the scattered words she had unleashed.

“Look, that’s not what I wanted-” Shaw began but Root cut her in mid-sentence.

“Then what _do_ you want?” Root asked before standing up and locking her determined stare with Shaw’s. There were so many things Root wanted from her –mainly just her- but she never knew what Shaw wanted; what she needed from Root –if there was anything Root could give her.

Shaw stilled for a moment, unable to move or utter a word, and suddenly as if divine inspiration guided her she closed the distance between them and with one abrupt move pinned Root to the couch. Now their faces inches away from each other, two breaths colliding and two bodies pressed together as one.

There was only one part left to make full contact and before Root could realize what had happened Shaw crushed their lips together, a pained kiss; a desperate one.

And when their tongues began exploring each other’s mouth Shaw laid Root flat on the couch, softly resting her head on a pillow, and straddled her waist, never breaking their kiss. 

It was slow and hot and everything Root ever wanted –needed. Her hands wandering up and down Shaw’s torso trying to memorize the sensation until Shaw froze on top of her.  
Root’s eyes instantly fluttered open at the absence of Shaw’s lips on hers and saw the other woman looking at her tentatively. 

“What’s wrong?” Root asked, hoping it was nothing. Hoping Shaw wouldn’t remember how much distance there’s between them, how much _she_ didn’t deserve Shaw. 

“The pillow’s wet” Shaw deadpanned as if she had just discovered the secrets of the universe. 

Root though didn’t seem to understand what Shaw was trying to discern in her eyes, what she was talking about. But then Shaw climbed off of her and so she realized how red her eyes must have been and how soaked the pillow was from her tears.

 _It wasn’t her fault,_ she tried to scream but the words wouldn’t come out and when Shaw reached the bedroom’s door she turned with an apologetic look on her face that said everything before she got the chance to talk. And when she did, Root’s fears came true in a heartbeat.

“I can’t give you what you want.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, the rating and tags have changed. There's a weird scene following, so if this isn't your kind of liking you can skip this chapter.

That was the first number Shaw was charged with since her return. Nothing she couldn’t handle, still Root somehow managed to do all her chores in a flash and so she joined her at stalking the guy because _she was bored to death,_ as she had said when entered the car.

And Shaw had said nothing at the time, she was stuck with Root for over a month now so two hours in a car with her were nothing compared to the cohabitation Root had coerced her into. Not that they were seeing each other much, since Shaw was hardly at home and even when she came back she almost always found Root sleeping on the couch.

Not this time though; this time Root was supporting her back against the kitchen’s counter waiting for Shaw to return. Her look’s similar to a defendant’s that was waiting to hear the jury’s guilty verdict. And she was guilty, according to Shaw; guilty of protecting her earlier that day from a bullet that was coming menacingly her way. 

So Shaw was furious about it and when she entered the safe house Root saw her approaching as if she wanted to tackle her. And she would almost do it, if it wasn’t for the counter behind Root who was now pushed against it as Shaw’s hand clenched her neck.

“Do I look like I need a human shield?” Shaw almost screamed at her face, her eyes emitting bright flames that doomed Root to an eternal anguish. 

“I’m sorry” Root said in a strained voice; though she wasn’t. She would do it again and again and again, even if it meant she had to take the bullet instead. 

“I. Don’t. Need. Protection” Shaw spat out the words in utter anger but when Root did nothing to break lose or defend herself she released her with a shove.

Though Root didn’t move, only stayed still, looking Shaw in the eye with those adoring eyes, challenging her to do something. It was the first time Shaw expressed an emotion, even if it was anger, and Root wouldn’t let it pass untapped, she would follow it and then dig deeper to find anything else. 

“I’ll always protect you though” Root said and before taking time to assess the situation Shaw grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her to the couch. 

Root knew the exact moment she spoke that it’d be her disaster but now that Shaw climbed onto her lap while kissing her intensely she chose to ignore the instinct that was screaming not to surrender herself. 

And even when she felt zip ties around her wrists she kept kissing Shaw with eyes closed and tearful as her tied hands grasped Shaw’s shirt vainly trying to take it off. 

“Let’s play a game” Shaw whispered and only then Root opened her eyes to see Shaw straddling her, a smirk on her face, as she pulled a knife from her boot. 

_No,_ Shaw wasn’t the same person she was before the stock exchange but she wouldn’t hurt her, not while she’s tied up and unable to defend herself. No, Shaw wouldn’t do this. Not to Root. 

“Sameen what are you doing?” Root’s voice was almost begging as if it would make a difference. 

Shaw rolled her eyes at that and wedged the knife’s handle into Root’s hands. 

“Just like old times” she said while her hand found its way between her parted legs and under Root’s pants. She's totally wet, more than Shaw expected her to be, as though their previous talk did nothing but arouse Root and when Shaw pushed roughly three fingers inside her Root moaned with both pleasure and discomfort. 

But then Shaw slowly took out her fingers and looked down at Root’s flushed face prompting her to use the knife in her hands. 

Root immediately understood what she had to do and lifted her tied hands to cut the flesh of Shaw’s upper arm. It was so superficial it hardly oozed blood but that earned her another penetration of Shaw’s fingers into her pussy and another one until her fingers were easily sliding in and out. 

But then they stopped and Shaw gave her another look. This time Root’s response was slower, her mind occupied by the feeling between her legs, and when she made the same cut on Shaw’s arm the fingers withdrew from her sex bemusing Root. 

“More” Shaw explained leaning forward for better access. And so Root slashed reluctantly Shaw’s flesh making the cut as superficial as possible. Still the blood started exuding from the wound and before Root could get the chance to worry about it Shaw pushed four fingers inside her dissuading her from uttering a word.

And so Shaw kept a steady rhythm as her other hand started tracing circles along Root’s clit making the other woman’s eyes roll back into her head and seconds before Root’s orgasm start building up Shaw stopped every movement she had started. 

Root’s eyes fluttered as she looked at Shaw puzzled. 

“Cut” Shaw ordered and when Root didn’t make a move to lift her hands from her lap Shaw took off her shirt and leaned forward. 

“Do you think I’m fragile?” she said but Root wasn’t paying attention anymore. Her stare was glued to Shaw’s torso that was decorated with cuts and burns and bullet scars. They were everywhere and Root found herself unable to look away, as if _she_ was the one responsible for this abstract art. 

“Do you think I need protection?” Shaw continued but Root’s eyes were now following the path of cuts that couldn’t be there for more than a week and she wondered what Shaw had been doing all these hours she was away. 

“Cut” Shaw repeated and when Root’s head gave a nod of refusal she leaned towards the knife in Root’s hands and pushed her body against it. 

Root’s hands instantly tried to release their hold of it but Shaw's hands came and gripped them tightly. 

“Sameen, stop it” Root whispered but Shaw had already begun leaning more forward until Root felt drops of blood on her hands.

“What, you think I’m weak? You think I can’t take it?” Shaw screamed when Root tried to free herself from the ties making the knife penetrating Shaw’s abdomen all the more.  
“Please, please Sameen I don’t think you’re weak” Root cried out, her eyes filled with tears as she begged for Shaw to stop. 

And she did, right before the knife could penetrate any organ.

“Please, I don’t want to play anymore” Root managed to say between sobs and Shaw stepped back dazed from what she was about to do as if all this time she didn’t have control over her body.

Root instantly dropped the knife to the floor and huddled up on the couch, hot tears falling from eyes so lost that nothing could hold their attention anymore, not even Shaw’s form that had just shut the front door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this sucks, i'm not in the mood to write lately. I hope you have a great holiday season and for those who feel gloomy and lonely at Christmas: you're not alone!

Shaw was gone for almost a week this time. She had left with a wound on her abdomen, product of her own hands, and a mind so disturbed that Root was almost sure she would never come back. 

And yet Root stayed. After all she didn’t know where she would go if she wasn’t with Shaw. All these months thinking about her, searching for her, missing her, she got used to this life; a life that had meaning only when Shaw was involved in it and now- now that Shaw seemed to have abandoned her for good she didn’t know what to do with it. 

What was she supposed to do with her life now? 

So she stayed. In an empty safe house, sleeping almost all day and staring at the door at night, waiting and dreaming. Dreaming of Shaw and how their life could have been if it wasn’t for Samaritan or The Machine. They would have stayed together, Shaw would have given her all she ever wanted –it wasn’t much, just Shaw- and they would have been happy, just the two of them. 

And when the tear fell from her eye at the realization of how naïve her thoughts were she heard a knock –more like a thud- on the door. Instantly she felt her hand grabbing the nano under the couch but before approaching the door she heard keys falling on the floor and then a grumpy familiar ‘fuck’ coming from outside. 

Root waited a couple of seconds and when she realized Shaw wasn’t going to unlock the door any time soon she opened it sharply and witnessed a body collapsing onto the floor and in front of her feet. 

“Sameen?” Root said as if she wasn’t sure if this mess of a human being was actually the love of her life. 

Shaw looked up at her with puzzlement drawn all over her face and then shut her eyes as though they hurt. 

Root took in her image, clothes soaked from the rain, a face pale with dark circles under her eyes and every pore of her skin giving off alcohol. She couldn’t see any trace of blood though and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“You’re drunk” Root said and the next moment cursed herself for pointing out the obvious. After her return Shaw wouldn’t miss an opportunity to have a dig at Root and she just gave her the best triggering phrase to do so. 

But Shaw never replied, she only tried to get hold of the door’s handle so she could stand up but her legs didn’t seem able to bare her weight and she fell back to the floor with a thud. 

Momentarily Root thought about leaving her like this, a mess lying on the floor, but when she looked at the woman almost cuddling up with her feet and shaking while drops of water were falling from every part of her, forming a small pool on the floor she couldn’t help but kneel down and help her. 

“Come on let’s get you out of these wet clothes.” 

 

When they stepped into the bathroom Shaw was literally clinging to Root who vainly tried to untangle herself from her grasp so that she could undress her.

“Shaw you’re shaking” At that Shaw squeezed harder Root’s arm as if her whole life depended on that hold, still though she remained silent, her stare -empty- glued to the floor and her hands trying to keep Root close like a child’s firm grasp of his mother when the lights go out. 

Eventually Root managed to take off Shaw’s wet clothes one by one, revealing scars Root hadn’t seen before, and before she burst into tears again at the sight of the incontrovertible evidence of Shaw’s abuse she helped the smaller woman step into the bathtub and then left in a rush as if she couldn’t bear that image anymore. 

 

Half an hour had passed when Root found herself knocking on the bathroom’s door.

“Sameen? Are you done?” She repeated the same question a couple of times and when she realized she wouldn’t get a reply any time soon she opened the door slowly.

“I’m coming in.” She whispered and when she actually stepped in she witnessed the most bizarre image she’d ever seen. Shaw all curled up and unblinking in the bathtub while from her eyes were falling drops of what seemed to be water at first sight.

Root moved closer and kneeled beside her, her own legs shaking as much as Shaw’s hands on her knees. 

“Sweetie?” Root whispered for Shaw to spare her a glance. She didn’t. 

All she was interested in was the damn wall before her. 

She did speak though. 

“You haven’t called me that in ages.” 

Root’s eyes that until now were caressing the side of Shaw’s face fell to the floor, already soft and shiny. She never thought Shaw actually paid attention to the pet names Root was using for her, let alone notice the absence of one. 

“How are you?” 

Idiotic question, yet Root needed to make it. She didn’t know what else to say, how else to respond to a Shaw so different from that person she came to love more than anything; even her God.

Shaw took a moment to breathe properly and when all the air was out of her lungs she uttered a word that made Root’s heart stop beating for what seemed to be an eternity. 

“Broken.”

Shaw would never admit that. No, this wasn’t Shaw. Shaw’s made of steel and gunpowder. Shaw’s not weak and she definitely couldn’t break. No! Root refused to accept that. 

“No, no you’re OK.” she said and the tears in her eyes betrayed how much she didn’t believe her own words. 

And Shaw didn’t believe her either, because when she turned to look at her, her stare was cold and empty and Root could clearly see now in her eyes the cracks of her soul. 

“Why?” Shaw asked with a firmness that could move mountains and when Root’s eyebrows were pulled together at puzzlement Shaw completed her question. 

“Why haven’t you given up on me yet?” 

And the very next moment Root felt her blood flow fading as something started ringing in her head. 

“I-” she didn’t know how to answer the question without saying all the things she wanted to say, all the things Shaw didn’t want to hear. And yet she couldn’t stop the words that came out of her mouth almost instantly, “I can’t.” she said relinquishing every attempt to hide from Shaw’s piercing stare, “Sometimes I wish I could, but I can’t.” 

And Shaw nodded and didn’t say anything else. Everything she wanted to hear, to have, to look at, was already there, with her, and all she was doing all this time was destroying it -along with herself. 

 

But now that Root was helping her put some clothes on she realized she didn’t care how damaged she was –how broken- because every piece she’d been missing was monumentally replaced by that woman before her. 

That woman that touched her skin as if it was made of glass, that took care of her as if she was a child, that loved her more than she could ever understand. So it didn’t matter how lost she was, she would find her way eventually, as long as Root was by her side. 

“Root?” Shaw said as she was now lying in bed, Root sat by her side and ready to withdraw to the living room (there was still a couch there waiting for her).

“Yeah?” Root said as she helped her cover herself with a blanket.

“Please don’t give up on me.” Shaw whispered looking up at Root’s startled face, her look almost begging Root to understand. 

And she did. She always did.

“Never.” Root replied as she leaned down to give her a peck on her forehead. 

And she meant it, with every breath she took, every cell of her body, every part of her, she meant it.


	5. Chapter 5

The next time Shaw left the safe house she stayed hidden in a crappy motel room for almost a week, drinking and eating to death. It wasn’t like she couldn’t face Root or anything, she just didn’t know what to say, how to react. Every time her thoughts returned to that night, the night of her outburst, she would curse herself for being so weak; so weak in front of Root. 

Root wasn’t supposed to see her like that, Shaw was strong and unemotional and unbreakable. She wasn’t that person that couldn’t step out of a bathtub, that needed Root more than anything, that was scared of being alone; she’d never be that person.

And now that the door to the safe house was open, the light of the corridor revealing Root’s form lying in the dark, she couldn’t be sure if she totally hated the thought of being that person. That person would be good for Root, would understand her, hold her, love her…

Her train of thoughts came to a standstill when Root’s voice, low and strange, filled the dark room.

“You came back” she sounded surprised and hopeless.

“I live here” Shaw replied apathetically and closed the door behind her. Soon her eyes acclimatized to the darkness of the room and almost instantly spotted the empty bottle of whiskey dropped on the floor next to the couch Root was lying on. 

The thought of Root being drunk –Root out of all people- brought a smile to her lips until she approached and took a closer look at the bottle. 

“Hey that’s mine” she stated, a frown already forming on her face, but when Root chuckled and stuttered something that someone with great ears and imagination could understand as “was yours” Shaw failed to restrain the snort of amusement that escaped. 

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Shaw said and moved to the bedroom, Root’s laughter following her path until the door was closed behind her. 

 

Shaw let the water fall cathartically on her face as she rubbed out the last week’s signs of certain activities from her body. The hickeys on her neck though couldn’t be washed away and she caught herself feeling relieved that Root was that drunk. 

Hickeys were never her kind of thing but the amount of alcohol she had consumed this week hadn’t allowed her a chance to fight the pair of lips that had charged the soft skin of her neck. 

She couldn’t even remember the face or the name of the woman, all she remembered was that she wasn’t Root and maybe that was what she was going for in the first place. As much as she had tried though, she couldn’t shake off the overwhelming feeling of Root’s touch and even when a stranger was fucking her brains out she would close her eyes and pretend it’s Root the one kissing her and she would let her do whatever she wanted -even hickeys- as long as she didn’t speak with a voice that wasn’t Root’s. 

Locked in its thoughts her mind didn’t warn her about the intruder that was now springing towards her, but she felt it the very next moment when the shower curtain was drawn roughly and Root’s forearm was pressed against her neck as her naked body hit the wall behind her. 

“Did she fuck you like I used to?” Root spat out, a distinct smell of alcohol overwhelming Shaw’s senses.

She didn’t get the chance to reply though, Root’s lips crashed against hers in a heartbeat, the back of her head hitting the wall with a thud and a taste of whiskey reaching her tongue along with Root’s ruthless and desperate one. 

The kiss didn’t break as Root grabbed Shaw by the shoulders and dragged her to the bedroom where she pushed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her. 

Shaw was lost for words at the aggressiveness of a drunken Root but all she could do at the moment was kiss and touch and moan, until she felt zip ties tightening around her hands and immediately opened her eyes to see herself tied to the headboard. 

“Did she make you scream?” Root said as she bit her way down to Shaw’s nipples. She wasn’t kissing or caressing as she used to; her bites and touches were rough, her questions wasted, her hands restless and her coolness… her coolness was long gone. 

“Were you thinking of me when you came?” Root continued, her hands finding their way between Shaw’s legs. They didn’t get to move further though, because Shaw spoke and everything around her froze, including Root. 

“All the time” she said and closed her eyes at the realization of what she had just uttered. She had been weak again, in front of Root.

Root who was now looking at her with eyes shiny and lost. 

Root who was angry and frustrated. 

Root who adored her with everything she had and with everything she didn’t…

Root who leaned down and kissed her, passionately and madly. Who kissed and sucked at the bruise another woman had left as if she wanted to wipe it with her lips. 

Soon the bites turned into kisses, the rough grasps into caresses, the harsh words into reassurances. 

But also the anger became sorrow and Root failed to repress the tears that fell down her cheeks and onto Shaw’s chest. And Shaw felt them and shook her head dissuasively, urging Root to stop them; she couldn’t handle them right now, she couldn’t handle any of this. 

“Root-” she began but Root cut her off mid-sentence.

“No, no. It’s ok, I’m ok.” she said and continued trailing kisses along Shaw’s breasts while her hands were stroking her abdomen and hip respectively. 

She was going slow -too slow for them- as if this would be the last time she touched that body, and soon Shaw realized it. 

“Root. Stop.” She said and closed her legs firmly to deny the access of Root’s hands that had already started moving down.

Root shook her head desperately and leaned in to press wet kisses on Shaw’s face. “Please. I need this.” She breathed in the scent of Shaw, “I need you.”

_I need you too_

“Root, get off me.”

“No, no” Root said and buried her face in the curve of Shaw’s neck, hugging her tightly. “I missed you so much.” she whispered painfully.

And Shaw was about to shake her off when she felt the body on top of her trembling. 

So she obstructed every word that was ready to escape her lips, every objection she had prepared, and let her cry for both for them; for all those months they were apart, for all the chances they threw away, the things they didn’t say…

Eventually, when Root managed to contain the wave of feelings that carried her away and into the abyss of broken hearts and loneliness she wiped away the remaining tears and looked at Shaw apologetically. 

“Can you untie me now?” Shaw whispered and it sounded like she was the one crying. 

Root nodded and cut the zip ties with the knife she always kept under her pillow.

Shaw stood up and before entering the bathroom she turned around and looked at Root, her eyes cold and indifferent. 

“I want you to leave this house and never come back.”


	6. Chapter 6

One week. That’s how it took Shaw to realize that she hadn’t left the house since she kicked Root out. It wasn’t that she didn’t have things to do, she did; it was just that she couldn’t open that door and face an empty couch, she couldn’t handle the void.

Which void, though, was debatable. 

And it was that moment when she realized what was happening to her when Root was around; she was healing, slow and painfully, but it was healing, even if it scratched her in the process, even if it made her weak and sad and powerless. 

Now, though, she could feel a whole different kind of sadness. The healing process had stopped and her scars seemed like they were wounds again, open and raw, bleeding like the first time. 

And she might have picked up the phone once or twice to call her, just to hear her voice -her breath- but eventually her ego overmastered her once again. That ego, her other self, was the one to blame for what was happening to her. _It_ made her like Root –like her more than a good steak or Bear- and now _it_ pushed her away, afraid of what might happen next; afraid of the irrational and unthinkable phenomenon of being with another person. 

This time she was determined to do it. The phone was already in her hands and Root’s number had been dialed when it rang, Finch’s name appearing on its screen.  
Shaw rolled her eyes and answered reluctantly. 

“Ms Shaw I believe we have a situation in which your expertise is required” his voice was urgent. 

_Of course it is_

“Tell me where you are, should I take my rifle?” 

“Sameen, I am not referring to your skills at shooting firearms. Please go to the subway, we are heading there as well.” 

Shaw’s greatest skill was shooting people, but they didn’t need her for that today. The second one was patching people up and Shaw jumped at the realization, her coat already in her hands as she made one last question. 

“Who is it?” 

A moment of silence followed, a moment of dark thoughts and horror and anguish; a moment like an eternity. And then Harold spoke and Shaw’s worst fear came to suffocate her.

“Root”

*

 

The moment Shaw set foot in the subway John appeared from her old room and urgently called for her to approach. Inadvertently her legs pushed her to that direction and came to a halt before entering the room. 

John’s clothes were soaked with blood that didn’t look his and from the inner part of the room she heard Harold shouting something like ‘stay awake’.

Everything was blurred from that moment on. She pushed her body to move forward and it did, without thinking, a sickening buzzing in her ear overlapping every other sound. 

“What happened?” she heard herself saying and couldn’t be sure if she screamed or whispered. Her eyes, her attention, her whole existence were focused on the lying person before her. A person once so full of life that was now struggling to breathe, blood trickling from her body and painting the sheets a light red.

“We found her like that in a basement, it appears she was held there for days.” Harold spoke, but Shaw couldn’t hear anything. She sprang forward and kneeled beside Root to inspect her wounds, purposely avoiding eye contact. A couple of superficial cuts on her breasts, bruises all over her upper body and a gunshot wound that looked infected. 

She ordered them to bring the supplies she needed and when they left she looked at Root’s face for the first time. She was pale –paler than the usual- and her eyes were striving hard to stay open.

“Why didn’t your god say anything sooner?” She felt her anger overwhelming her; that wound was inflicted two or three days ago and since then nobody had treated it. 

But Root didn’t seem like she heard the question, her stare was glued on Shaw and her mouth opened to say something that faded out as the voice became a whisper and the whisper became a puff. 

Shaw bent down in an attempt to understand Root’s words and then she heard it, muffled but clear. 

_“I didn’t give up on you.”_

Shaw’s eyes closed instinctively at the remembrance as she stilled there, her cheek almost touching Root’s and her hand gripping the sheets. She made a move to brush her fingers against Root’s hand but immediately regretted it and raised her head to look her in the eye as she spoke. 

“I know Root. But it’s time for me to take care of you now.” She waited for a response and when Root nodded slightly she ducked and gave her a peck on the forehead as the needle penetrated her skin and injected the anesthetic. 

 

*

 

The last time Shaw entered the safe house was two days later. She was holding a can of gasoline as she stood in front of the couch and regarded it. 

Ten minutes later she poured on it the gasoline and set it on fire. 

Her eyes reflecting the flames of an empty couch that will never host its owner anymore; flames of broken promises and wasted chances. 

Flames for a lost life and a passion that never had the chance to ease off.

A tear escaped and she let it fall down her cheek, unashamed. 

Then another one. And another one, until the image of the burning couch started blurring and the flames were nothing but a red scenery, made of blood and misery.  
And that moment she realized it: Supergirls do cry. It’s rare but when they do it, it is silent and solitary and with dignity. And their tears melt pieces broken that can never fit back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me...
> 
> Thank you all for reading. And a special 'thank you' to Kallium for the great and wonderful inspiration!


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